No human one, poor and undone,
Hath vainly knelt him down.
The dead silence that followed as Bob returned to his seat was followed by a hum of surprise. Who was that? That Bob Jerrold? Was it possible? The change in the lad when properly dressed was itself surprising. But the full tone and clear voice of the boy, the deep feeling with which he said each word, all contributed to draw sympathy about him.
The program was soon over, and the merry bells were jingling on the starlit Christmas night as Bob trudged homeward. In his hands he bore some gifts, too, a thing rather new to him. Altogether his heart was filled with gladness.
A few days later, James and Charlie, two lads from the Sunday School class, in passing by the humble home of the Jerrolds climbed the fence to see Bob, who was by the stables, mending a sled. Bob paused as the unexpected visitors approached, perhaps thinking they were there to tease him as had been usual.
“Hello, Bob,” called James. “Mending your sled? Can we help you? How did you break it?”
Of course, there was something said about traps and sports and skating and coasting. Many confidences were exchanged.
As they were to leave, both visitors suddenly looked uncomfortable, as tho neither knew what to say. Then James exclaimed:
“Oh, say, Bob, you haven’t been to Sunday School for a while.” Bob did not answer.
“Yes,” added Charlie, “the boys thought you spoke fine at the Christmas festival, and they’d like to have you come back.”